GM Jakuri's #8-06 "Reaping What We Sow" (Inactive)

Game Master Jakuri

Armeline smirks at Lya. "Come to make up for that idiot?" she gestures towards Adoril, "If you're being this persistent, I guess I have no choice other than to hear you out."

Although many people are still carving pumpkins, townsfolk begin setting up sort of a potluck meal for the festival. A long pair of tables are quickly set with all manner of bread, cheeses, sweets, pies, and other desserts. A man who appears to be an innkeeper sets out a trio of carved turkeys and an old lady shuffles up to the tables before producing pickling jars, each filled with a different vegetable.

Lya smiles at the jest "You know how those sorts can be... less than diplomatic. Thank you for hearing me out." Lya settles into a stride, while ignoring the apparent feast being setup.

"A troubling time, those revolutionary days. And the punishment you took for being our ally..."

she sighs for a moment. "As you know, all of our agents stationed at the lodge in Galt, including the venture captain were murdered. It was not an easy decision our leaders faced, whether to send outsiders into Galt, who knew nothing of the landscape, into possible traps... a potential suicide mission..."

She stands up straight. "Politics aside, we wish it had not been that way, and wish to mend the fence. Venture-Captain Eliza Petulengro wishes to extend her personal apologies, along with a formal apology from the Pathfinder Society. As a paladin of Shelyn, on this day of mercy, during a festival of forgiveness, also want to express in simple terms... we are sorry."

diplomacy, sickened, inner beauty trait: 1d20 + 12 - 2 + 4 ⇒ (17) + 12 - 2 + 4 = 31

Gaz helps with the manual work involved in setting up for the pot luck. People may be surprised by the strength of such a small creature. The halfling easily holds tables over his head while his little legs move endlessly, running him from here to there.

Diplomacy aid: 1d20 - 1 ⇒ (8) - 1 = 7

His down fall is his poor taste in working songs and assumption that 'Festival Ale' is 'Everyone's Ale'.

Seeing that lady is out and talking to Lya, Bert runs over and deposits a pickle at her feet and gives it a nudge. The little bird then runs his head on her boot.

"bert!"

Adoril is awkwardly shifting positions, leaning against a wall on the look out for any funny business. He doesn't feel much like celebrating after demonstrating exactly how not to talk to other people. He pays more attention to Bertinard while trying to make it look like he's just sulking in the corner.

Corrin picks up a pumpkin, drops it on a table, pulls out a dagger and embeds it deep within.

"Heathens.." he mutters under his breath. He pulls the dagger and stabs again. "God of pretty and flowers and niceness.."

He pulls and stabs, pulls and stabs, pulls and stabs.

"Ridiculous."

Craft Pumpkin: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (9) + 3 = 12

He pulls his dagger, looks at the pumpkin, then stalks off as the pieces of the inverted star fall loose from it.

Armeline slowly exhales through her nose. "I need some time, but I'll consider your apology. Just do me a favor and don't stir up any trouble here--these are good people who've suffered more than their fair share of sadness. I'd ask some of the elders about it--but don't ask Bertinard--he's a bit...sensitive about it."

About half an hour later...

Bertinard Sees that Adoril is standing off to the side of things, approaches him, and asks him to gather the party off to the side of things.

Assuming everyone gets gathered?
"I'm sorry to bother you, but something terrible has happened. Are you comfortable facing grisly situations?"

Gaz smiles at that, "Bears are no problem, not even Grizzly Bears. Bigger the better rug!"

Bertinard gives Gaz the most accusing "wtf" look any of you have ever seen.

"A man is dead and your response is to joke about it?!"

A middle-aged woman with a longsword on her hip arrives. Bertinard says to her:

"Constable Tivareua--Elm has been murdered. I am going to have a meeting with the townsfolk, I need you to take these adventurers out to Elm's farm and see if you can find out what's happened."

The constable gives a stern nod before looking at the PC's.

"Well? You heard the man--best to get there quickly while the clues are fresh. We haven't had a murder in Rosehaven in almost 30 years, and I'll be damned if this goes unsolved."

Corrin raises an eyebrow.

"I'm all for grisly, but we aren't cut out for that stuff. Well, they aren't cut out for that stuff." Corrin motions to his party.

"Why are we being sent to look at this? Aren't you guys all about revolution and bloody revolt? Isn't this Tuesday?"

"Many of us fled the violence from the revolution"

"You're going because Bertinand doesn't want townsfolk to see the crime scene. It's pretty gruesome, from the sounds of it. The man who'd seen it reeked of vomit--and he owns the butcher shop."

"And the revolution? Bah, Rosehaven is too isolated to be of any strategic value. If you're worried about 'bloody revolution' you came to the wrong part of Galt."

As the details of the situation unfolds Gaz has several revelations, once they have the details of where to go her insists they head off. Once the group of Pathfinders are away from the festival goers Gaz speaks privately to his fellow adventurers, "Humf, no good. No murder in 30 years, then we arrive, then this. No good, no good. None of them trust us. This feel like trap."

"Why should they trust us? If we can't maintain simple Political Decorum, they won't tolerate our presence here, and our mission will be a failure. And i almost had her accepting our apology..."

Lya walks along with unhappily at the turn of the events. She slides over to the constable. "Tivareua is it? What can you tell us of this.. Elm? A druid right? And what is this 'sadness' i hear has been going around lately?"

Lya attentively listens to the constable, trying to demonstrate her commitment and empathy.

diplo to improve attitude: 1d20 + 12 ⇒ (10) + 12 = 22

The constable walks with military posture and a stern expression, even after Lya's soothing words.

"Elise Tivareua is my name. Elm's a druid alright. Tends to the plants, says he can speak with them too." Her expression toughens as she realizes that she should have used the past-tense when referring to Elm.

She furrows her eyebrows at Lya's final question.

"You heard about that, did you? Hmm..." she lets out a sigh, "I was only a child when it happened, but I'm told that a coven tried to tear Rosehaven apart. Through their whispers, planted evidence, and calculated murders, they nearly dissolved any sense of community. Suspicions flared into violent confrontations...until Bertinard showed up with that lantern of his. Its light revealed the true nature of the hags and the villagers saw through their disguises. On this very day, 30 years ago, Bertinard led the villagers and captured the coven. Once they were executed the villagers turned to forgive each other, and we celebrate those acts of forgiveness with this festival."

"Perhaps after we investigate Elm's farm we could ask Bertinard about the hags and his lantern?" Adoril looks toward the group, "I'll take notes during the investigation and log our dealings so far. "

"How very interesting, things like this tend to be what start fueds, and are the basis of blood magic. If the villagers wronged these witches, this could be an escalation of sorts. Many of the druids, and witches are linked to cycles of the moon." muses Prizm as he agrees to see the site of the murder.

Kn: Nature: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (8) + 8 = 16 For any recent lunar activity
Kn: Rel: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (13) + 6 = 19 For a link of that to a moot
Kn: Local: 1d20 + 12 ⇒ (1) + 12 = 13 For any legends around the area that may support my theory

Bert runs around this way and that and takes a giant bite out of Corrin's pumpkin - then dashes away with his prize.

Gaz nods in approval of what Prizm is saying, though he actually has no knowledge of such things. He knows the moon though, yes, he's quite confident in that.

With a grunt at Adoril's suggestion, "I have good eye studying what has been. Let see if there marks of these blood moon witches."

You finally make it to Elm's farmhouse. Its single door is slightly open. It creaks in the late autumn wind. Constable Tivareua tells you to take a look around.

A body lies face-down about 50 feet from the farmhouse.

Railroading a bit to speed up.
As you approach, you see that the corpse is partially wrapped with what appear to be pumpkin vines. Vines encircle his legs and arms at bone breaking angles, while another vine twists around Elm's head, holding his jaw agape. Small offshoots have crept upward and burrowed into the druids eyes. Underneath the vines, Elm's clothing is torn and singed in places. Patches of brown fungus scatter the ground nearby.

You continue your investigation into Elm's farmhouse. Elm must have allowed dirt and leaves into the house, as the interior is dirty but uncluttered. The house contains a bed, a desk, a table, two chairs, a chest full of clothes, a pantry and shelf of cooking supplies, as well as a small stone fireplace.

A masterwork sickle hangs from a peg near a dirty, patchwork coat. Lya spots a small charm in the shape of a tree sitting on one of the pantry shelves.

Atop the desk lie two pieces of paper. The first piece of paper appears to be some sort of cryptic note (see information and tactical). The second is a map of the area around Rosehaven marked with ten X's in seemingly random locations.

Cryptic note

Map with X's

"Find anything?" asks the constable.

Question: what are our light sources? The constable has a torch in hand, but she'd like to hold onto it.

Low Light Vision, and I can make illusions and other light effects

"This sure feels like it has a touch of the unseelie" comments Prizm giving sway by his Fey background.

After stroking his small red beard for some time he quips "It would appear that Bert is onto something and we should check out that distant farm house - it appears to be casting magic toward the center of the township".

Gaz agrees, "What magic spirals like that? That's not this farm?" Gaz looks closely at the map and tries to discern where Elm's farmstead in relation to it all.

Survival (Map reading): 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (13) + 6 = 19

"What?" Lya eyes up the gnome curiously...

"The red peat moss is called whisperwort.... I don't know what magic Prizm is speaking about, but it is possible the pattern of the moss is a major clue."

Lya will walk over to the charm, casting detect magic.

darkvision

It detects as magic.

The constable shifts over to take a look at what you've gathered. After listening in for a bit, she takes a glance at the map before her face goes pale. She points to the X in the center of the map.

"That's Bertinard's house! We have to get back to town before it's too late!"

"Let's Go!"

Lya pockets the charm.

Seeing his friend dash away toward Bertinard’s home the small gnome and dodo also take action. Try as they might they fall behind due to their much smaller legs. Looking around Prizm sets his eyes on Gaz, and just before they make into the house in question – the gnome pulls at the arcane fabric of reality.

With a hard jab of his finger into Gaz’s side he says ”ineej hdbegej”!

Prizm smiles as he sees Gaz grow stronger. Bulls Strength

”Little guys!” he yells.

Gaz rips the door open to find Bertinard making his evening prayers. Caught unaware by the halfling's arrival, he stumbles backwards, nearly losing his balance in the process.

"Good heavens! What is the meaning of this?!" exclaims Bertinard.

The constable looks Lya right in the eyes and says "You stay here and explain the situation--I need to go muster the militia and set a perimeter." before leaving.

Lya takes a moment to compose herself, eyeing up the party.

"I am pleased you are okay Bertinard. We found some disturbing evidence at Elm's farm. He appears to have been researching an unnatural occurrence of whisperwort... which we found around his murdered body.

His research shows a spiraling pattern that begins or ends here."

Lya carefully watches his reaction to this information.

As Gaz runs along with Prizm his eyes widen and an excited laugh begins to crackle from his lips as the halfling's body surges with the magical steroid. "You amazing! I feel the strength of my ancestors! DA LITTLE GUYS!"

Arriving at the door, Gaz grabs it and yells, "I've got the power!" before he rips it open.

'Where is it?! Where is menace?!' Totally amped up, Gaz begins searching the house for something that would resemble to him a magical spiral's termination point. He starts with the exterior and then will move inside if Lya seems it is wise.

Perception: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (12) + 6 = 18

"Oh dear.... perhaps I misjudged.." the gnome mutters as the door comes flying off "or miscalcula.....

Prizm ducks a flying pot which resonates with a crash.

Wincing the little gnome looks up at Lya with an apologetic look.

Bert calmly walks over to his masters side.. and then sharply kicks him in the leg causing Prizm to wince.

dismayed at Gaz's antics... she will push him gently out the door. "Watch the perimeter... let Prizm know of anything suspicious outside..."

Lya appears very, very tired... but continues the conversation with Bertinard.

but... but... but... Lya... he is crazy... what if he.. oh dear"

Prizm ducks the closing door and stands outside with the quivering Halfling.

"Sooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo..... Gaz huh? Ancestors eh?"

Gaz slightly bounces up and down as he paces outside, eyes darting around. grunt.."Perimeter."..grunt.."Perimeter."

At Prizm's question Gaz sees an opportunity to brag about something he holds very dear. "Yes, Yes! My old Horde, before Pathfinder horde, Gurat Bi Rup. We strongest Orc's in the land! Feasted on Giants and rode mountains! All fell but me, one Orc does not make horde, so now I teach you Pathfinders the way." Then with a hand clasped on Prizm's shoulder in comradery, "We will slay giants together!"

"You're an orc.....? I am learning so much..." Prizm comments with a half hearted smile.

"hbsou sbdgs!" the gnome mutters. ghost sound

Out from around the corners of the house there are wild grunts, that seem to move as they are investigated. effortless trickery

"Giants you say? Did you hear that?"

The little gnome smiles to himself as he calmly keeps Gaz entertained.

Prizm effectively has Gaz's stunted mind wrapped around his finger. The confused halfling scurries towards whatever sound he thinks he hears, all the while telling the gnome Giant hunting stories from when his old Orc horde was still together. "...then big guy grab me like this and I fly onto back... Wait! Did you hear that?!... Again... anyway, we were outnumbered..." etc, etc

Information and tactical updated--see slide 4

Lya, Corrin, and Adoril describe with they found at Elm's farm for Bertinard while Prizm and Gaz keep watch outside.

Something doesn't feel right...

Gaz, Corrin, and Lya are all shaken. A shaken character takes a –2 penalty on attack rolls, saving throws, skill checks, and ability checks. Shaken is a less severe state of fear than frightened or panicked.

Prizm is the only one who can see it. Knowledge(nature): 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (5) + 8 = 13

Prizm is up! You have a standard action.

Prizm blinks his eyes hardly believing what he is seeing. ”This is so awesome! It’s a plant monster! All these months of adventuring and FINALLY something from the woods! I wonder if there are seeds in its giant head.. if I planted those seeds would i…..”

The gnome is struck in the head with common sense suddenly and realizes he has to take action. Pointing his tiny finger at the writhing mass of vines he fires a multi-colored beam covered in sparks directly at it.

Ranged Touch, Blinding Ray: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (11) + 3 = 14
Common sense… kinda hurts… ow

”LYA! BERT! It’s a Jack-o-Lantern! Big evil Pumpkin! No… not pie Bert…”

"bert?!"

The ray connects!
Fort: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (4) + 4 = 8
It's blinded for one round!

Adoril draws his greatsword as he moves out the door.

Gaz, Prizm, and Corrin are all up!

"GAZ! LITTLE GUYS!" shouts the gnome as he points the orcish halfing giant hunter at the giant evil gourd.

With that Prizm pulls a wand and fires a magic missile at the plant thing.

Magic Missile Wand: 1d4 + 1 ⇒ (3) + 1 = 4

"pew!"

Prizm.... you don't need to say that every time you use the wand... he thinks to himself with a silly smirk.

Jakuri, there is no save vs the ray for future note.. its touch and based on hit dice

My mistake--I thought for a second that it was the cleric/inquisitor/paladin spell of the same name (which raised some concerns). The spell needs a save, your school SLA doesn't. You are using the school ability. The effect is still the same.

Am I still under the effects of Prizm's Bull's Strength? And I'm assuming that fence gate is open and I can attack from that square, if not all this is for naught and I'll just be double moving.

Gaz flies into a rage, feeding off the adrenaline of Prizm's feigned giant hunt. He draws his axe as he runs at the pumpkin man!

Another +2 to each if Bulls is active
Great Axe, Power Attack, Rage, Shaken: 1d20 + 3 + 2 - 2 ⇒ (3) + 3 + 2 - 2 = 6
Damage, Rage: 1d10 + 5 + 2 ⇒ (8) + 5 + 2 = 15

Though Gaz was expecting a giant and swings horribly inaccurately at the true enemy.

Corrin moves a little bit towards the door and casts an extended 'False Life'. Temp HP: 1d10 + 3 ⇒ (7) + 3 = 10.

Gaz swings a mighty swing. Unfortunately, it connects with the picket fence instead of the Jack-O-Lantern. Prizm's magic missle whizzes by before blasting the creature in the face!

The two floating objects reveal themselves--they're some of the gourds carved during the festival! Where they should normally be lit with candle light, instead they burn with a fiery intensity. They float up to a height of 20 ft before belching out flames at Gaz and Prizm.

Gaz touch: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (10) + 4 = 14 hit
fire dmg: 1d6 ⇒ 5
Prizm touch: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (1) + 4 = 5Missed.

Lya and Adoril are up!

Lya steps outside and sees the madness... "Undead pumpkins! ....really?"

She moves up to Gaz and casts remove fear on him.

"Pumpkins? Madness!"

Adoril runs past Gaz, moving 15ft and power attacks the jack-o-lantern!

Feel the powa: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (7) + 5 = 122d6 + 4 + 3 ⇒ (3, 4) + 4 + 3 = 14

Just Adoril doing his awful dice roll thing

Adoril's awful dice rolling succeeds. As the paladin strikes the jack-o-lantern it crumples into a heap. Its eyes begin to dim.

Gaz, Prizm, and Corrin are up!

Prizm watches the seeds explode all over the place after Adoril smashes the pumpkin. "It does have seeds! I was right Bert!"

The gnome then moves back and with a flourish the gnome waves his wand at one of the gourds.

Wand of Magic Missiles: 1d4 + 1 ⇒ (4) + 1 = 5

Corrin steps out of the house, looking up at the gourd and throwing his sword at it.

"STUPID PUMPKIN!"

Hand of the Apprentice: 1d20 + 4 - 2 ⇒ (4) + 4 - 2 = 6

His sword flies past the gourd before stopping in midair and bolting back to Corrin's hand.

"STUPID TOWN!"

Gaz continues raging, even more so since the picket fence got in his way and now the only thing to hit is out of his reach. He yells to Adoril, "READY TO FLY!" Gaz waits in a crouch with his axe back ready to swing.

Readied action, smash that thing if tossed or if it lowers.

Prizm turns one of the flying gourds into a shower of pumpkin guts with his magic missile.

The remaining pumpkin floats over and belches flames down at Prizm.

Prizm touch: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (5) + 4 = 9 Miss

The Jack-o-Lantern lets out a cackle as its eyes flash with sudden intensity. Its expression turns to a twisted smile as flames spill from its face. In almost an instant--it explodes!

EXPLOSION!: 2d6 ⇒ (5, 4) = 9
Gaz does not save. He takes the full 9 and is stunned! Everyone else saves for half damage (4) and is not stunned.

Lya and Adoril are up!

Adoril looks at the stunned Gaz, "One day, friend. I promise."

He let's out a sigh, and heaves a javelin at the pumpkin.

Depressed javelin toss: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (16) + 3 = 191d6 + 3 ⇒ (2) + 3 = 5